


Glitter, Glue and Paper Hearts

by quantumoddity



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a teacher, Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Cute, Eliza is a nurse, F/M, Fluff, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 17:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10417905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Over enthusiastic kindergarten teacher Mr Hamilton is attempting to start a relationship with the very kind and very pretty Nurse Schuyler, who he's had a crush on since he started working at King's Elementary. Which is a little tricky given that the last time they interacted, he fainted and threw up on her shoes…So he turns to his class of kindergarteners for advice.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Staples](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10358553) by [thepinballer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinballer/pseuds/thepinballer). 



> Part of me and my very talented friend's Teacher AU! They wrote a part too, Staples, which you should really read!

Most adults who met Alexander Hamilton, who knew him from his college days or bumped into him at the bar or at various rallies and marches and demonstrations would describe him as volatile. Argumentative. Hot tempered. And they wouldn’t exactly be wrong. Alex lent himself that brand from a single glance, with his wiry frame and his dark, dramatic eyes and mouth that was usually twisted in a frown and always ready to espouse opinions. Every inch of him, every brief conversation (as few people got away from Alex without hearing his sharp, animated voice) left most adults commenting that he was an angry man. A loud, brash and forceful kind of man who wasn’t particularly good at or bothered by getting people to like him.

These adults would probably laugh aloud if they were then told what Alex actually did for a living.

 

The embittered, impulsive liberal scholar was how most people knew him. Unless of course they were one of the five year olds he taught kindergarten to at King’s Elementary.

Those little kids all knew Mr Hamilton to be one of the sweetest and kindest and funniest teachers there ever was. The guy who taught them geography by proudly sporting an old explorer’s hat he’d bought from a thrift store and took them on a grand Jules Verneian tour of the world and math with such patience and attention that no kid felt left behind or confused. The guy who always made time for a story at the end of the day, telling them with huge theatrical gestures and a whole cast of different funny voices, pacing around the room until every little set of eyes was on him. The guy who never, ever raised his voice when he was angry, he’d always sit and explain and listen and talk until following his word just made logical sense. The guy who accepted every flower and bottle cap and feather he was brought after playtime with a huge smile and a hug of thanks. Who tried to implement a Gold Star chart, with tiny stickers awarded to each child for good behaviour, but his definition of ‘good behaviour’ extended so wide that within a week there was no more room for any stars by anyone’s name. The whole thing was full up. So, he’d let the children go home on Friday afternoon with the gold stars decorating their cheeks instead, alongside huge smiles. To the kids, Mr Hamilton was the teacher who peppered his lessons with a little Spanish, who gave them all personalised nicknames, who let them sit on his knee and dry their eyes on his sleeve when a scraped knee or a too hard piece of homework or something at home made them cry. He would never press for details, not until the kid had them freely to give, the hugs and the tissues and the cheer up high fives always came first.

With his funny ties with cartoon characters and brightly coloured hair ties in his pony tail, his bright grin and his bouncy attitude, to his class Mr Hamilton was a hero.

 

It had taken Alex a whole evening to decorate his classroom for Valentine’s Day; even after pulling a begrudging Peggy away from the secretary desk to help, it had taken hours until there were enough red streamers and craft paper hearts and pipe cleaner roses for Alex to be satisfied. The looks on the kids’ faces in the morning had been well worth the many paper cuts on his fingers and having to yet again explain to Principle Washington, yes this is vital for the children’s learning, no I won’t go overboard again like last year, yes, I’ll restock the stationary cupboard with glue.

Of course, Alex still taught them their usual lessons in the morning, helping them learn how to tell a triangle from a square and how to count to ten without using fingers and how to get a capital S the right way around. But he did do the whole thing with flashing love heart deelyboppers waggling away on top of his head, so he reckoned he was still on theme. But after lunch, the formalities were out of the way and the kids could really get into the spirit of things with making their own Valentine’s day cards. Of course, Alex made sure to explain that their cards could be for anybody, that there were lots and lots of different kinds of love for different kinds of people and they could celebrate any kind they wanted today.

Now usually during craft time, Alex would be weaving his way through the tables, picking his way around the mounds of glitter and growing swamps of paste and so many scraps of brightly coloured paper it looked like someone had fired off a confetti cannon. He’d be full of smiles and appreciation, oohing and ahhing and every little creation he was proudly shown, not minding in the slightest when he ended up with red finger paint prints on his shirt.

But today, he stayed at his desk, with his own little stack of card and pot of glitter and coloured pencils, frowning and concentrating so hard his tongue was poking out of the side of his mouth. Which of course caught his students’ attention immediately; when did their teacher ever sit still willingly?

“Mr Hamilton? Mr Hamilton?” one of the bolder girls called out, waving a pudgy little arm in the air.

Alex’s eyes flickered upwards briefly, “Need some help, Ruthie?”

“No, sir,” the little girl’s braids bounced as she shook her head, “Whatcha doing? You making a card too?”

Her question came with a dozen different interested little murmurs from the rest of the kids.

Alex actually blushed a little, another very unusual thing for him, “I, ah…I might be, sweetie.”

“Who’s it for?” little Julio asked, adding brightly, “Mine is for my dog!”

Alex gave him a crooked smile, though his blush got deeper, “That’s great buddy, I’m sure he’ll love it. Um…mine isn’t really _for_ anyone, not in particular. I just thought I’d, ah, give it a go?”

Now, the children were young but not so young they couldn’t spot an obvious lie like that.

“Do you have a _girlfriend_ , sir?” Ruthie pressed.

None of the children missed how their favourite teacher jumped a little at that question and was suddenly fidgeting, “No! No, I don’t! I…I don’t.”

“Do you have a boyfriend then?” little Yolanda asked, pushing her glasses back up her nose like she had to do about a thousand times a day.

“No, mija, I don’t have one of those either,” Alex answered a little more easily this time, very pleased they’d listened to him when he’d explained that their cards could be for boys or girls.

“Then why you making a card?” Ruthie still demanded, “If it’s not _for_ anyone?”

Alex had to marvel at their tenacity but he was eager to steer the conversation somewhere else, “I’m not sure I really am making a card, apparently, arts and crafts isn’t my thing…”

He showed the students the evidence, a pretty pathetic looking piece of pink card with a wonky heart drawn on the front. Sure enough, he got a lot of little wrinkled noses in response and disapproving shakes of the head. Sometimes Alex found it hard to appreciate the honestly of small children.

“Sir, that’s not very good!” Julio told him plainly, “Don’t give that to anyone.”

“Well, I’m trying…and it isn’t for anyone, I told you!” Alex defended himself with a small smile, “I’m just not super creative like you guys are…”

“Oh, we’ll help you then!” Yolanda offered, her smile shy and sweet.

“Yes!” Ruthie jumped up onto the chair eagerly, no matter how many times Mr Hamilton begged her to be careful, “We’ll help you, sir!”

Twenty other little excited voices rose in a clamour until Alex was chuckling, holding up his hands in defeat and coming to join them at the craft table, pulling up a chair that was so small his knees almost came up to his ears when he sat on it.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let the experts show me how it’s done,” he smiled.

 

The bell eventually rang for the end of the day, surprising them all. They’d all been having so much fun, they’d barely noticed the clock hands going by. There hadn’t been too many incidents, save half a tube of red glitter ending up in David’s lap, Jasmine insisting on sticking googly eyes on her own eyelids much to the amusement of everyone and a hair-raising moment when Mr Hamilton accidentally drank a mouthful of the water they’d been washing the brushes in rather than his coffee. But a card had been successfully made, the kind of very loud, very glitter covered, very…unusual Valentine’s day card that twenty kindergarteners and their teacher would put together. It could probably hang in the MoMA, Alex thought mildly, without raising too many eyebrows. The crudely drawn crayon dinosaurs could represent capitalism, the many googly eyes could mean government censorship…

Alex just hoped it would do the trick.

“Okay guys, that’s home time! Off you go…” he jumped up at the bell, steering all his little students towards the coat room, getting them as cleaned up as humanly possible, making sure nothing got left behind (he’d once had to drive to Yolanda’s house to return a much-treasured stuffed rabbit she’d left at school, knowing fine well she’d never be able to sleep without it). He did his usual thing of standing by the door and high fiving each one of them as they filed out and wishing them goodnight before the classroom door swung shut. There was always that one moment at the end of every day, where Alex would lean against the door and sigh tiredly but happily, knowing he’d successfully completed another day and relieved to have silence back in his life. Only for a moment though. Then he’d miss the kids.

He pulled the classroom together as best he could but it was inevitably going to be another day when the janitor was going to greet him with an exasperated look. No matter, he’d apologise profusely but for now, Alex had a job to do before he lost his nerve.

“No harm in trying,” he told himself firmly, looking at the pretty garish card in his hand before sighing and starting to stride down the hall.

 

Alex probably made more visits to the nurse’s office than any other teacher, for several reasons. One being that his students were the youngest so inevitably ate more unusual objects without thinking, walked into more doors than others, tripped over tables more. Another was that Alex could maybe, possibly, potentially admit he was a bit overprotective when it came to his class, bundling them in his arms and taking them down to be seen to when _maybe_ the need actually wasn’t too great?

But recently there had been another reason why Mr Hamilton seemed to be haunting the school’s little sick room, why he seemed to be making excuses to hang around there and knock on the door, why his playtime duty always seemed to take him down that particular corridor. A reason he hadn’t been able to admit to himself at first, only after his friends in the staff room had told him quite plainly that he needed to grow some balls, it could be seen from space, for God’s sake!

It was the same reason he was shaking with nerves as he pushed back the door, decorated with the little plate that read ‘Nurse E. Schuyler’ and flowers that she’d painted herself.

“Uh, Eliza?” he called out, hoping his voice didn’t shake, “Its me.”

Eliza swivelled round in her chair, her heart shaped face lighting up, “Alex! Hey!”

God, that smile could knock the breath out of him, Alex thought as he grinned and came in, leaning against the examination table with the card hidden behind his back, where it might stay depending on how his nerves held up.

He was a little gratified to see that Eliza had decorated for the holiday too, with strings of heart shaped bunting around her office and she was wearing a smaller string of them around her neck, even though they clashed with her pale blue flowery scrubs. Take _that_ Mr Jefferson, it wasn’t just him being ‘a childish idiot’…

“So how was your day?” he asked, attempting a casual air, like he’d just dropped by for his usual chat. Like there was no potential awkwardness between them at all. Like last time they’d talked he absolutely, definitely _hadn’t_ accidentally let slip about his huge crush on her while under the influence of pain meds she’d given him, after he’d accidentally stapled his hand…like he hadn’t passed out immediately after so he hadn’t been able to gauge her reaction…like he hadn’t also thrown up in front of her a bunch…

“Not too bad,” Eliza allowed, getting up and automatically going for two mugs to start making coffee, apparently on board with the ‘pretending that everything is all fine’ plan, “Poor Elliot had another asthma attack but he’s okay…Mr Madison got another nosebleed, scared the living daylights out of his fourth graders, he _is_ okay, no matter what you hear from him…had lunch with Angelica and Peggy…so yeah, pretty good! One sugar or- wait,” her hand froze on the tin of coffee beans, she turned and eyed him suspiciously, “How many have you had today? Be honest?”

Alex grinned sheepishly and shrugged, “You got me. Sixteen.”

Eliza shook her head in mock despair, “Apple juice it is then…”

As mildly annoying as Eliza’s new ‘Mr Hamilton can only have fifteen coffees per day’ rule was, Alex would gladly have drunk anything if it meant he got to sit with her. And surely it showed she cared about him? That was a good sign, right?

“So how about you?” Eliza asked, eventually handing him a juice box. Her eyes travelled upwards to the little love hearts still merrily bouncing around on the springs on his headband, her grin getting brighter as she reached up and tweaked one, “You got into the spirit of things, I’m guessing?”

Alex went red, covering it up by taking a long pull on the straw, he’d forgotten he was wearing the damn thing still…

“Good!” he nodded, “Really good, the guys loved it…um…actually…while we’re on the subject, I have something for you?”

Now or never. Do or die.

Eliza blinked, tilting her head a little, “Oh?”

Alex bit his lip and nervously produced the card from behind his back, offering it out to her, “Happy Valentine’s day?”

Eliza’s jaw dropped a little at the sight of the card, still dripping glue and shedding craft feathers, but she had the grace to get over it quickly, showing nothing but delight, “Oh, Alex!”

“The, ah, the students helped me,” he confessed, her positive reaction encouraging him, “But I…I wrote the inside myself…”

He let her take it, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her open it and read his careful handwriting.

_Second date, you and me? Friday night, coffee after work? From, Alex_

Eliza read the words a few times just to make sure that it said what she thought it said, her smile growing wider, willing herself not to giggle like a complete love struck idiot.

“Second?”

“Well,” Alex rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Seeing as the first was technically you driving me to the hospital to get a staple pulled out of my hand and to check I hadn’t given myself a concussion by passing out. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s no trouble,” Eliza laughed, her eyes bright and wide as they met his, “Second it is. I’d love to, Alex.”

The urge to whoop and punch the air was strong but Alex managed to resist. Just about.

“Great!” he jumped up, suddenly animated, like her yes had flooded him with energy, “We’ll go to that stand by the gates at central park, the one that you said does the right amount of cinnamon and then we can walk or we can sit or whatever, anything, whatever you want!”

Eliza watched him, grinning, “Sounds utterly perfect.”

On a complete impulse, seizing a whim, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, brief but so sweet and so gentle, it froze him in place. She had to laugh a little at his expression when she pulled away, he looked like he’d been shell shocked.

“Don’t faint again,” Eliza implored, springing his deelyboppers again.

 

Alex managed not to, he even managed to keep his feet for another kiss before they parted. He manged not too as he strode back to his classroom, feeling so light on his feet he wasn’t completely convinced he wasn’t floating.

He wasn’t sure if he should tell his students. He wanted to thank them for their help, after all, but if they knew that Mr Hamilton did in fact have a girlfriend and it was their beloved school nurse, Ms Schuyler, well, they’d have the wedding planned before playtime.

 

**Author's Note:**

> We're on Tumblr! quantum-oddity and oversaturatedocean


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